In Another World
by Super Lizard
Summary: First xXx AU on If Yorgi ended up working for Xander slightly humourous, eventual philosophical angst. T language.
1. I am

In Another Time (We Might Have Been Allies)  
  
    ~ SuperLizard, the only one to cheer for the bad guy  
  
  
Chpt One  
  
    Life as he knew it had been destroyed; his father was missing, presumed dead. His mother died of a lung disease the doctors didn't catch in time. All that were left of his family were his brothers, and he would protect them-- they were going to the United States. Mother Russia and his pride in Her was gone; his family no longer included her.  
    They hiked from Russia to Germany, only to find that the United States immigration office wouldn't accept them. After promising to send money when they could, the three were allowed to stow away with a shipment of packaged chocolates headed in the direction of New York. When they arrived, they slipped past customs and found the man in Jersey who worked with their contact in Germany; he promised them jobs and a place to stay if they moved to Detroit. Following without option, the brothers rode in the back of a moving van with twelve other immigrants of the illegal sort, all bound for the same city.  
    Their promised place was a one-bedroom, one-bathroom, rat-infested tenement in the worst part of the city; he was ashamed that it was all that he could do for his brothers, but he had little choice. His youngest brother was given a job as a bar tender at a local club due to his knack with a bottle of vodka; his second younger brother was to be general security-- basically, a bouncer for the inside; the eldest man of the three was not hired. Days passed without work, until he found himself speaking with a young man at the corner of the street.  
    "Can you spare a light, dude?" the young man inquired, digging a cigarette out of his pocket.  
    "I am sorry, my English is not good. What?"  
    "Lighter. Fire. Cigarette. Uh... you German? Feuer." The man tried awkwardly to get his meaning acrossed.  
    "I am Russian, not German, but I understand you now," he dug a matchbook out of his pocket, and lit a match.  
    "Thanks, dude. Why are you standing here, anyway?"  
    "I am waiting for phone call," he gestured at the pay phone behind him. "Maybe I get a job."  
    The young man seemed sympathetic. "Down on your luck, eh? Ehhh, it happens. Hey, if this job doesn't come through, I know someone who'll let you do some odds and ends work until you find something steady; she's pretty cool, she'll teach you to use the computer and everything, you just gotta split some film for her, so she can sell X's tapes online."  
    "I do not know computers..." he seemed bewildered for a moment.  
    "Jay'll teach you. She's awesome. I've been after her number for years, finally got it from X today. I'll share, though, just no personal calls, or I'll beat you up."  
    The man laughed.  
    "Oh, by the way, I'm Tom. Who're you?" he offered a hand to shake, using the other to hold his cigarette.  
    He shook his hand firmly, smiling gratefully. "I am Yorgi."  
  
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Oooh, the first AU. Gotcha. I'll bet you could've figured out it was Yorgi, Collier, and Viktor, though. Be writing more soon.  
  



	2. Job

    Tom's number rang through to an irrate sounding woman on a cellphone.  
    "Yeah, talk at me," the woman greeted; the noise in the background was unbearable.  
    "Yes, I am calling about job," Yorgi replied. "This is Jai?"  
    "Hey!" she shouted to someone on her end of the phone. "Shut that shit off!" The background noise cut off abruptly. "Yeah, I'm Jai. Did Tom give you this number?"  
    "Yes, he did."  
    "You're the Russian guy? Ever done any work with cameras?"  
    He hesitated. "Well, no, I wasn't-"  
    "Yeah, I get it, you're here illegally. It's coo. Let me give you an address, I'll teach you the computers instead." There was a short pause. "Got a pen?"  
    "Wait please," he requested, digging in his pockets. He pulled out a napkin and a pen he found on a bench. "Yes, what is address?"  
    There was a short but amused laugh. "You're accent is really cute, you know that?"  
    "Uh..."  
    "Heh. Come to 156 West Texas Avenue at around seven o' clock tomorrow. I'll be there to introduce you to the boss and get you started in training. Kay? Gotta run."  
    "You are not boss?"  
    *click*  
    Yorgi heard the phone disconnect, but it took a second for him to realize he'd just gotten a job. Dumbfounded, he hung up the pay phone and wandered back toward the loft apartment. He had a job. He, rejected by the army, by his country, by everything he'd ever known, had just been accepted by something other than his family. A faint happiness gnawwed on the insides of his heart like a teething kitten. Now he could support his brothers, himself, maybe move into a better apartment, have three meals a day like the Americans he saw-- and he saw few on his side of town.  
  
    Yorgi came to 156 West Texas Avenue at exactly six fifty-eight, but was faced with a bit of a quandary; it was an apartment building several stories tall. He started up the ramp in front, and found himself face to headlight with a motorbike as it came screaming up. With a gasp, he moved out of the way as the bike parked. The rider dismounted and took off her helmet to reveal short, black hair and a dark complexion.  
    "You're the Russian guy?" she addressed him, studying him closely.  
    "Yes."  
    After another second, she smiled and looked him over once again. "You're even cuter than your accent. What's your name again?"  
    "I am Yorgi," he offered a hand politely.  
    "You don't have to frown all the time, you know," she told him, shaking his hand and gesturing for him to follow her inside.  
    They came to a freight elevator, which he politely pulled the gate down for her, and allowed her to chose the floor. On floor five, it openned to a large open loft with a large amount of people milling about.  
    "Alright, listen up," Jai shouted, bringing everyone to attention. "We got a new guy for computers. This is Yorgi, his english isn't the greatest, but his accent is kinda cool. Introduce yourselves some other time, we've got work to do. Dennis, get Yorgi started on the computers. Tom, Lare, Roberto, get those cameras down to the van, then get the ramp hitched to the truck. Vincent, Marton, Olivia, get the boss' gear to the truck. And someone remember to get the damn bungee cords this time!"  
    Yorgi blushed at the mention of his accent, but noticed that Jai's grammar got better when she was cursing and ordering people around.  
    A well-build bald man standing in the back raised his hand. "Teacher! Teacher! Oh, pick me!"  
    Jai deadpanned. "Xander... What..."  
    "What am I supposed to do?" He grinned playfully.  
    She sighed and wandered off as a tall, pale, skinny man with a big T-shirt that said, "No, I will not fix your computer," came up.  
    "You're Yurjy?"  
    "Yorgi."  
    "Yurgie."  
    "No. With O."  
    "Ahhh. Orgy."  
    "No..."  
    "I'm just fraggin' your hard drive, Yorgi. C'mere, I'll teach you about the film editing stuff." The man, assumably Dennis, walked off.  
    Yorgi followed. "Is what that you do here?"  
    "Me? I edit film."  
    "No. What is this place? What is it this place does?"  
    "Ohhh," Dennis grinned. "Tom didn't tell you? You're working for Xander Cage now, bro. This place is the headquarters, this is X's apartment. He does extreme sports stunts, activism, social commentary, action politics we like to call it. Today he's going to jack Senator Hotchkiss' Corvette and run it off a bridge."  
    Yorgi considered the implications of such an action-- mainly the death part. "How he get out of car before it explode?"  
    "That's the fun part," he grinned even wider. "We'll give him parachuting gear when we drop off the ramp and tie the cameras to the car. When the car goes off the bridge, he gets to the top of the seat and pulls the string. Then, BOOM! Big explosion, and he comes down safely. We have the cameras in heat-proof metal casings so they don't get damaged. They should film the ride, the jump, and the explosion. Then our team at the bottom of the bridge retrieves X and the cameras, loses the cops, gets back here, and we party."  
    "What is this for?" he wondered curiously. "Why tape this?"  
    "Jai sells the tapes online to fanatics. It's great."  
    "Ah. Who is X? Is he bald man with tattoos."  
    A voice boomed laughter from behind them. Yorgi whirled around quickly to find himself looking slightly down at the same bald man that had been pestering Jai. "Yeah, I'm X." He laughed again and offered his hand. "I'm Xander Cage," he introduced. "And you're my new editting guy, hm? Don't let them lock you up for too long doing this shit without going to Jai and asking them to put you on the front lines, first. You look like the kind of guy that would enjoy the adrenaline rush."  
    Yorgi couldn't help but smirk.  
    "Heh, yeah, see? I'm right, too," X chuckled and nodded to Dennis. "Hurry up and get to work, you two, you'll have tape to edit in about..." he checked his watch, "...two hours. Catch you never."  
    Dennis and Yorgi watched as he marched toward the door, people following en masse with equipment, cameras, and other such oddities.  
    "He is character," Yorgi mused. "Why is he dressed as vallet?"  
    "He's posing as a vallet parking dude to get past security," Dennis informed him, then pulled out a chair from a row of computers and pointed. "Sit. We've got two hours and a shitload of work to do."  
    "Do all Americans cuss like drunken Russians?"  
    "...Yeah, pretty much. Okay, this is the on button..."  
  
  
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Of course we cuss like drunken Russians... except we do it in English...  
~ SuperLiz  



	3. Can not be free

  
  
Hours later, Yorgi was able to edit film as fast as Dennis could. The place had cleared out in anticipation of the stunt; Jai returned with the cameras and tossed them to Dennis, who split the casings open and handed the film to Yorgi, who immediately began loading it.  
"You two work fast," Jai noticed, watching in awe as the entire set of film was loaded and shaved down to, instead of five minutes of footage from four cameras, five minutes of split shots from all directions. Another two minutes, and the quality was tripled. "Man. We don't pay you geeks enough."  
"Now she notices," Dennis snorted. "Let's try getting the chronology down. He doesn't fall three times."  
There was a rattling as the cage of the elevator, and they turned to find Xander coming in.  
"X, you're here," Jai greeted. "We were just about to go over this footage--"  
"Something's wrong," Yorgi observed suddenly.  
Xander hung his helmet on the peg near the elevator door and stumbled over to the couch, sitting down slowly.  
"Xander?" Jai prompted worriedly.  
"I'm okay. Just a little shaken up."  
"That doesn't happen very often," she deadpanned. "What happened?"  
He shook his head, and took his jacket off, draping it over the back of the couch. "There was this group of guys when I was riding back. They jumped me, tried to take my bike. I feel like a little kid... Mommy, the bigger kids took my bicycle..."  
"They took it?" Jai sounded shocked.  
Even more shocked was Dennis. "They were bigger than you?"  
Xander shot them a Look. "No, they didn't take it. There are five very bruised thugs in the alley between Jackson and West Main. But they managed to get me a couple times; two of them had knives. Punk kids, really."  
"Where is the bike now?" Jai demanded.  
"It's on the porch," he said, irritated. "What, only the new guy is worried? Gee, thanks Jai, love you too, babe."  
Yorgi had gone over and examined the gash in X's arm, then turned back to Jai and Dennis. Well, where Dennis had been. The geek reappeared around the corner the next moment, and tossed a box Yorgi, who caught it and set it on the arm of the couch. He openned it and found some guaze and disinfectant, and went to work on the gash.  
"Hey, man, you don't have to do that--" Xander started.  
"That needs stitches, is not closing right," Yorgi observed, setting the bloodied guaze on the box lid.  
Xander spazzed. "No! I don't like needles!" He jumped up as the Russian dug a sterile needle and some dissolving stitches out of the first aid box. "How do you say that in Russian? Needles are bad. Very bad."  
Jai crossed her arms and scowled at him. "You'll throw yourself off a bridge, off a building, off a plane, out of cars, race down mountains, hills, across roads, on boards, skiis, bikes, cars, but you're afraid of needles?"  
He nodded, eyeing the needle Yorgi held with outward dread.  
"Suck it up and take it like a man. You have tattoos, right?" Dennis reasoned.  
"That's ink, that's different," X objected immediately. "The only thing left in your skin is the ink, and it doesn't draw blood if it's done right. That," he pointed at the needle in question, "is bad. That leaves string in your skin, and it's gross, 'cause there's blood and, and, and..." he rand out of reasons. "And... uh..."  
"There is more blood if not stitched," Yorgi reasoned.  
X looked at the door as if considering running, then eyed his arm as blood continued to drip from it.  
Door. Arm. Needle. Crazy looking Russian. Door. Arm. Needle. Russian. Jai's patented, copyrighted, trademarked Super Death Glare.  
"Uh... okay..." He inched back over to the couch and sat down, turning away from his left arm and closing his eyes. "Alright, go," he said after several moments.  
"Is done," Yorgi replied with a slightly smug tone. "Stay still, will cover with bandage."  
Xander blinked in confusion. "Wait, you're done with the stitches?"  
"Da."  
Dennis and Jai snickered loudly. X turned to watch Yorgi bandage his arm. "Where'd you learn to stitch people up?"  
"Army of Mother Russia," he replied vaguely. "I join to fight, and they put me in medical. When I get used to medicine, they put me out to fight. Then they have us fight wrong people. Was load of shit. Came here."  
"Good choice," X praised, with no hint of sarcasm. "Sounds like the government of Russia is just as crappy as the government of the good ol' US of A. Can't be free here, either."  
"Can not be free anywhere," he said quietly, wrapping the used needle in the guaze and putting it in a plastic baggie to be disposed of; he closed the box and dropped the plastic bag in the nearby trash can.  
There was a short awkward silence.  
"Hey, Yorgi, that's your name, right? Can I call you Yorg?"  
"I guess," he seemed puzzled.  
"You left Russia for America because the army did you wrong?"  
He shook his head. "The country did my family wrong. They take my father, they ruin and kill my sister, my mother died because they did not help her when they promised to. My comrades, killed for politics of government not supported by the people. I come here to get away from that shit. I come here to live."  
"Atleast you didn't have any ideas about freedom," Xander mumbled. "You know, you're alright, Yorgi."  
He smiled slightly and nodded in appreciation.  
Xander let his head rest on the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, then sat forward and turned to Dennis and Jai. "So, what we got?"  
Dennis flipped the screen through the play sequence. Drive. Talk, talk, talk. Jump. Out of car scenes mixed with in car scenes, then the explosion in multivision.  
"It's like jumping again," X grinned like a little kid. "Except not as windy."  
"I like it," Jai agreed. "Sharpen it up a bit, and tape a master copy; then start making copies for shipping. I've already got a two hundred sale from pre-pay alone."  
Xander laughed. "Spoken like a true capitalist. I'm gonna go get a beer."  
"Alright. Later." Dennis began clicking frantically, sharpenning the image track, while Yorgi loaded the tape for the master copy and Jai pulled out her order list and some labels.  
  
Yorgi sat in his own apartment with his brothers that evening; he had been paid $350 for his work on that day alone. The job for X wouldn't be steady-- only when he decided to pull a stunt-- but it gave Yorgi, Collier, and Viktor a decent start. The job at the club paid relatively little, but they could afford to stay in the apartment tenement for another month, and eat regularly. Things seemed better, and all his brothers would hear about from the eldest was praises for his boss and his assistant.   
  
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A/N: Meanwhile, back in Russian, Vladimir Putin is elected and decides to nuke Thailand... This is an AU. I can do that. cackle  
  



	4. New friends

  
------  
It was two months before Xander came back from his vacation in BoraBora, which Jai had suggested rather vehemently. The group gathered again in the loft apartment, gearing up for the next stunt, which involved a short drive--  
To South Dakota. X was going to parachute along Mount Rushmore, and paint a long black line over whichever president's face he could get to. It would, as so many other stunts, lose its shock value if he didn't get it the first time.  
Yorgi volunteered for the road crew, since few of the usual crew were willing to go out of state and violate their parole. The gear was loaded into the three vans, and a plane was reserved for the occasion. The crew was nine people, three to each van. Van one would have food, drinks, and the personal belongings of the entire crew, plus Xander, Jai, and a young man named Charlie. Van two would have the parachute gear and cameras, plus Dennis, Yorgi, and a young Italian man named Vincent. Van three would have more cameras, film, and all records of hotel reservations, plane reservations, and the money. Three sisters were driving in it.  
"Hey, Sherri," Dennis called over the CB radio from the second van to the youngest sister in the third van. "What's sayin' we skip the post-stunt party and find ourselves a nice quiet spot."  
He got a rather irrate reply from the eldest sister. "Hey, Dennis, what's sayin' you stay away from my little sister?"  
"I dunno what's sayin' that. Must not be very important."  
"My fist is sayin' it, it's damn important, you little computer-kissing psychonerd."  
A loud laugh came over the radio as Dennis sputtered in reply, then Yorgi stole the CB. "Is not saying much now, I think he is small bit scared."  
Xander's loud laugh could be heard from the open window, which Jai had openned for smoking purposes, then his voice came over the radio. "Wassa matter, Denny, you scared of Jules?"  
"He better be scared," Julie, the eldest sister, threatened.  
"I dun wanna go anywhere with you, anyway, computer geek!" Sherri added from the background.  
More laughter.  
"Hey, be watching comments about computer geeks," Yorgi cautioned.  
"Yeah," X backed him up. "Some of those computer geeks are from the Russian Army, he'll beat you up!"  
"No," Yorgi laughed. "I would never hit a woman."  
"Depends on what you call a woman," Dennis' voice got caught in the background.  
"WHAT?!" Sherri shrieked. "A'right little boy, you're gettin' an ass-whoopin'. When these vans stop, you better pray your butt's still numb from the sittin'. Lil bastard."  
"As much as I like hearin' Yorgi's accent," Jai broke in, "Ya'll are gonna have to stay off the channel. If we get any truckers up in here, they're gonna wanna talk. Besides, they report the cops."  
X was heard muttering in the background. "Traffic tips of the rich and famous."  
"Shut up Xander."  
"Yes mother."  
  
The drive was long. Really, really long. So long, that after five hours of driving, X pulled the first van over at a truck stop. He leapt from the van as the others parked, and immediately started pacing lines. Jai and Charlie got out the other side of the van as Vincent turned off the second van and Margo, the middle sister, parked the third. They gathered near the vans, making quite a group-- except that X was still pacing around.  
"Stiff, Xander?" Jai laughed. "Want me to drive?"  
"No, you drive like a girl," he told her. "No offense, Dennis."  
Dennis scowled, as the others laughed.  
"Food," Vincent suggested.  
"Food," Yorgi agreed vehemently.  
"FOOD!" X exclaimed triumphantly, then pointed at Jai. "Hah! In your face!"  
Among quizzical looks, Jai explained. "He's been bugging me for food for the last three hours."  
They herded into the diner section and filled up three tables.  
Jai and X sat at a table of their own. Vincent and Charlie sat around and talked about snowboarding while Dennis pretended he was following the coversation. Sherri surprised Yorgi by pushing him forcefully down on one of the bench seats and sitting on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and engaging him in a slightly extended, very involved kiss.   
Julie watched, smug, as he pulled Sherri off him and turned to her elder sister, fearful. "Dun worry, I told her you were okay. And you ARE okay, RIGHT?"  
He nodded enthusiastically. Dennis sputtered angrily. X, Jai, Vincent, Charlie, and the sisters laughed.  
Sherri leaned in to kiss him again, but the waitress was coming with menus and Yorgi managed to point that out nonverbally. She smiled at him and shifted off his lap, allowing him to move to the side and accept the menus for the table. They ordered, then Sherri turned to kiss him again.  
"Wow," Charlie said after a moment, the men all staring.  
Yorgi would have said something, if he wasn't busy.  
Sherri pulled away this time, grinning. "You're good."  
"Thank you," he replied, then glared at the others. "American perverts, like to watch."  
"Oooooooh," the entire group hooted.  
"It's on, Russian," X told him, grinning; he stood up and strutted over as if he were actually going to start something.  
Yorgi peered up at him, trying to keep a straight face, tense as if he'd fight-- and he would, if he had to. He tried to convince himself that Xander was joking, but something in the back of his mind told him that the shorter but stronger man would win, and that he needed to be ready if he struck out at him.  
"You'd really fight!" X exclaimed in happy surprize. "That's good to know; lots of people talk big but they never do it, but you'd back yourself up. That's cool." He ruffled Yorgi's well-combed hair.  
"Stay off the hair, X," he warned, relaxing slightly. "Just because you have none of your own."  
Another 'Oooooooh.'   
"You're jealous 'cause you have to put up with that nasty stuff. Not everyone can be bald and look good." He strutted back over to his table as the waitress came with the first of the orders.  
A voice came from the other side of the bar. "Is that a Russian? He ain' so tough, but boy, he ugly."  
Yorgi turned, standing, to face the speaker, instantly dangerous.  
"Cool it, Yorg," Vincent advised under his breath.  
The speaker, a heavily tattooed man with a too-tight T-shirt, too tight old jeans, and a pair of really goofy looking black leather boots, was stauntering over. The very badly groomed trucker stood with all his weight-- a considerable amount-- on his left foot, and gazed arrogantly at Yorgi. "We got a Commie, boys."  
Behind him, several others looked over, laughed, and stauntered over in the same fashion.  
Yorgi didn't even flinch. "Am not a Commie."  
"Yeah, that's what they all say." He leaned forward, and growled in a low voice. "Until I smear them into the pavement, and show their Red guts to the world."  
Xander's voice came from behind the defensively stanced Russian; the slightly shorter American was carefully ready to leap, but waiting for the other to strike first. "Do you just pick fights randomly, or is there a reason you and your little pals are messing with my friend here?" _You've just entered the Xander Zone, you ugly mother raping son of a--_  
"What kind 'a American ar' you, travellin' 'round wit' a foreigner, a Commie no less?" the man seemed shocked, but continued sneering. "'Ell, if he had the chance, he'd prolly fly hisself into a building."  
Charlie, Vincent, and Julie were ready for anything, keeping their hands near their forks, switchblades, and anything else they carried as weapons. A Neo-Nazi emblem was clear on the front of the man's shirt, a detail which did not go unnoticed by any of them.  
"That's the Al Quida, you jackass." Yorgi retorted scathingly.  
The man shouted and swung at Yorgi, "Shut you up, Russian pig!"  
Yorgi ducked, then swung up into the man's jaw. There was a crunch, and he was sent reeling backwards as his buddies rushed forward over tables and benches. The rest of the diner customers moved to the other side of the diner quietly, or watched disinterestedly. Xander launched himself at two of them, not really having any particular plan of who he'd hit first.  
Vincent and Charlie leapt from their seats while Dennis ducked beneath the table and cowered. They bowled over a particularly large man, and used his obeseness as an advantage-- he couldn't get up unless they stopped hitting him, and they didn't intend to stop before he lost conciousness.  
The two men Xander had charged at had no trouble taking the initial blows he dealed and giving them back. They didn't expect Julie to come at them with pepper spray and a fork, though.  
"EeeeYAAAAHH!" she shrieked, spraying one of them and gouging at the other's eyes with the fork. The sprayed one stumbled backward and blocked the fifth and sixth members of the group, who were waiting for a clear shot. The forked one shouted and swung at her, knocking her backward by sheer luck. Xander roared and slugged him directly in the nose. He sputtered and went down.  
The fifth member, path now cleared, hunched over quarter-back style and ran Xander down, leaving him sprawled on the floor next to Jai's table.  
"Oh," Jai laughed. "Ohhhh no. It's ON now." She pulled off her earings, stood up, and slammed her high heel shoe into his crotch.  
He gave the most heartbreaking yelp he'd ever sound off in his life, crumpled to the ground, curled up, and squeaked.  
The man Charlie and Vincent had ganged up on was now soundly unmoving. They chuckled to each other, executed an elaborate high-five, and turned to watch Yorgi turning his enemy's face into a poorly defined gob of mush. The big man went down hard, just in time for them to hear the last member of the group shouting.  
"You FUCKING BASTARDS!" he roared, stepping over his fallen buddies, pushing Jai out of the way and onto one of the tables, pushing Julie behind him forcefully enough for her to lose balance and fall again, and pick Xander up by the back of his neck.  
"Put me down," Xander growled.  
He spat in the man's face.  
"You're going to regret that."  
"Uh huh, an' why's that?" he sneered.  
"Because there's a very angry Russian standing behind you."  
"Huh?" It was the last thing his small mind would wonder for a very long time. He went down like a collapsing high-rise as Yorgi brought his bent elbow down on the back of his neck, angled to knock out rather than to break.  
Xander picked himself up again and dusted off. "Thanks man."  
"I should thank you," Yorgi replied, stretching his elbow out and popping it back into place. "You all didn't have to jump in like that."  
Sherri picked her way over the people to help her sister up; Dennis crawled out from under the table skittishly. Charlie and Vince tried to explain to the frantic store owner and a security guard what had happened. Jai stood up and readjusted her shoes indignantly.  
"Yeah we did," X answered back. "Man, Jules, you're wicked with a fork."  
"You okay, X?" Jai asked with genuine concern.   
"Yeah, sure. Yorg, might want to do something with your nose before you bleed to death."  
He reached up to touch it. "Did not feel it-- ah!" he yelped as he touched it.  
Sherri watched carefully as Jai shoved him towards a bench and grabbed her glass of water and a napkin. She dunked the napkin in the water and went to work cleaning away the blood.  
"Duuuuude," Dennis whistled. "That's broken. That's, like, three-place broken. There's only one bone in your nose."  
"Thank you, doctor Dennis," Jai deadpanned. "Shut up."  
"Yes ma'am."  
"We should probably take him to the emergency room," X suggested. "If we don't, it'll probably heal funny and look like shit. And my head is killing me..."  
Jai glared back at him. "Okay. Let's all freak him out. Morons."  
Yorgi blinked in pain as she clamped the napkin down on his nose. He reached up and brushed her hand away, holding it himself.  
Vince and Charlie told the cop everything that happened; the cop chuckled and shook his head.  
"You need help moving them outside?"  
The cop's answer shocked them.  
"Hey, don't gawk like that. Stuff happens like that a lot around here. You get this guy's feet. You and the big guy can try to handle the bigger one there."  
Between Vince, Charlie, Dennis, Xander, and Julie, they had them moved outside in a matter of minutes, propped against the back of the building, out of view of customers. As a present, Xander asked that they leave a six pack of beer for them.  
After paying for the damage and their food, they bid farewell to the diner. The entire group of customers, the waitstaff, and the cooks in back cheered and applauded them.  
"Looks like we've made some friends," Vince laughed over the CB on their way to the nearest emergency room.  
  
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[A/N]: Whoo, illegal immigrants and ERs... Maybe I'll throw in George Cluny and do a cross-over. Nah, I'm not _that_ cruel.  



	5. Kirill

  
When they got to the emergency room, Yorgi hung back by the vans.   
"Wassup, Yorg?" Dennis asked.  
"They ask questions if I go in," he said uneasily, still holding the blood-soaked napkin to his nose.  
"And?" Charlie prompted.  
He gave him a sidelong look, then glanced back at the building. "Nose is stopped bleeding, will heal on its own."  
"You scared?" Charlie dared.  
"No," Xander told them. "Yorg's right, they'll ask questions here. He's not exactly in the best status, guys."  
Dennis glanced back uneasily at his co-geek. "Warrant?"  
"Illegal," Jai corrected quietly.  
"Oh. So... now what?"  
"Xander is getting his head looked at," she declared. "Sherri, Julie, I need you to stick around here with me, we're going to try to straighten his nose out a bit."  
Yorgi panicked. "Wha-? No, is okay, really!"  
Jai shot him a glance as she walked back toward the truck. "Dun worry, I've had to do this before. A couple of Mexican guys used to work for us, got into a bar fight before, came to me. I fixed em, but I gotta warn you, it's gonna hurt."  
"What exactly are you going to do?" he inquired cautiously.  
"I'm going to put two straws up yours nose, then put a bandage on it. Just don't touch it for awhile, a'right?" She dug in the back of the first truck until she came up with two drinking straws and a first aide kit.  
Yorgi followed her instructions uneasily, sitting on the floor of the van while she stood in front of him.  
"You gonna scream?" she wondered. "If you are, tell me so I don't flinch when you do it and leave you with a not-so-nice lookin' nose. Do you want someone to hold your hand?"  
He shot her a deadpan look.   
"Hey, the Mexican guy did. Grab on to the seat, then." She reached over and gently put the straw up one side of his nose, trying to push the bone back into place.  
He cringed and gripped the seat.  
"Told ya," she mumbled, removing the straw and doing the same to the other side. She gently laid a piece of guaze over his nose and taped it down. "Okay, no messing with it for the next couple of weeks."  
"Need to negotiate hazard pay," Yorgi wimpered, eyes watering.  
Jai laughed.  
Dennis came wandering out of the ER and up to the vans. "They're giving X aspirin and telling him not to drive. They said he's okay, though, but Jai... you gotta tell him to stop hitting on the nurses..."  
A wave of general laughter followed, which grew as a rather attractive young woman dressed in scrubs chased him from the small-town ER out into the parking lot, wielding a purse.  
The group loaded into the vans in a practiced, speedy manner, leaving the door of the first van open only long enough for X to dive in, completing yet another grand escape.  
"Xander, what'd I tell you about the white girls with medical careers?" Jai berated him as he picked himself off the van floor and set himself in the passenger seat-- a feat made slightly more difficult from the movement of the vehicle.  
"Uhhhh, they're white?"  
"No! They want white men with medical careers!"  
"I'm white... kinda..."  
"It doesn't count," she told him.  
"Awww..."  
  
They pulled up in South Dakota without further incident. The motel rooms were cheap, but cleaner than the conditions Yorgi and his brothers were used to; though Julie and her sisters seemed a little put out by it all.  
"There's no cable," Charlie whined, until Dennis unpacked his unscrambler box from one of his bags.  
Dennis grinned.  
"Score," he cheered.  
Vincent swiped it right from his hands. "Yoink..."  
"Give it back!" Charlie complained.  
"Children, children, put the gadget down," Jai ordered maternally, passing out keys. "Dennis and Vince are in one room, anyway. Xander, Charlie, and Yorgi, ya'll get the room with the couch. Julie and us girls have the big room."  
Charlie moped for a minute, then glanced at X. X glanced at Yorgi, who glanced at Charlie. Charlie snatched the cable descrambler, and all three made a mad dash for their room.  
"That is _so_ not cool!" Dennis shouted, unwilling to run after them.  
Vince leaned to the side, and muttered, "That's not the box, is it?"  
"No, that one's for phone phreaking. Come on, let's go set up." Dennis wandered off.  
  
In the other room, X had his back to the door, waiting for them to start pounding. Charlie examined the box, then howled in disbelief. "Hey, guys? We been had. This ain't the box."  
Xander scowled, Yorgi laughed.  
"Is not box, then we get box from them other way."  
"What'd you have in mind?" Charlie asked, dropping his voice to sound conspirital.  
Yorgi grinned. "They order pizza, right? So pizza guy comes, knocks, they answer, and we run in and take box."  
He thought about this, then nodded agreement. "X?"  
"Ha, nah, that's okay. I'm sure there's espn or somethin' on basic we can watch," Xander declined. "Besides, I'm sick of sitting. I'd rather do something that doesn't involve driving or fighting."  
Silence prevailed as the other two men were left gaping. Charlie regained the faculty of speech first.  
"X... not driving... and not fighting... whoa... wait..."  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Okay, it would only be shocking if you added not snowboarding, sky diving, or bungee jumping. And don't forget--"  
"AAHHH, STOP!" Charlie howled, clapping his hands over his ears. "FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND ANTI-GOVERNMENT IN THE WORLD, STOP!"  
  
In the end, they all ended up sitting in the lobby with a box of paperclips stolen from the desk. The linked chain stretched from one end of the room to the other seven times, and then once more half across. After wasting three hours linking them, stretching them out, and unlinking them-- then trying to explain to the irrate old woman behind the desk just why they were doing it-- they returned to the room to sleep.  
Hours later, Xander and Charlie were awoken to a quiet whimper from the other side of the room.  
"Charlie," Xander hissed, "Choke the chicken when you're by yourself, that's disgusting!"  
"It's not me, and I don't think that's what it is, either," Charlie replied in an indignant whisper. "Yorgi's freakin out!"  
"Huh?" X sat up, taking his time to adjust to the freezing room outside the blankets. He snatched the bathrobe from the end table, not caring if it made him look like a sissy-- it was too dark for anyone to care, anyway. He walked across the room to the couch, where Yorgi was curled up, shivering in a nightmare. "Hey, Yorgi, wake up."  
"N...nyet... Kirill..." He tossed a little, battling with something only he could see. Speaking in fast, fearful Russian, he called a few more times for Kirill, then surrendered to frightened murmuring.   
Xander shook him, unsure if it was better to wake him or leave him asleep, but knowing he had to try and save his friend from whatever it was that was attacking him. "Yorgi, wake up!"  
Yorgi gave a shout and struggled away from Xander's grip, shaking and panting as if he had been dragged from the ocean just before drowning. "Kirill... they were here, dying... where... oh..." Trying desparately to calm himself, he was a pretty pathetic sight.  
After an extended silence, Charlie inquired, "Yorgi?"  
"Y... yeah...?"  
"Who's Kirill?"  
Yorgi took a deep, quavering breath. "Kirill is... Kirill was sniper in special forces unit. He was like a brother to me."  
"What happened?" he asked, unable to resist but knowing it was the wrong thing to ask.  
"He... he was caught by... by Chechnyans... They sent his body back to our camp, with a note that said he told them nothing, but they would find out everything anyway..." He ran a hand through his hair and settled back on the couch. "We didn't even know what they wanted to know. I found them..." his voice dropped to a dark, angry tone that scared both Xander and Charlie. "I found those fucking bastards that caught him... I found their unit, and my brothers and I killed them all..."  
Xander stood up and backed away a step, cold from more than just the overeffective motel air conditioning. One part of him felt sorry for Yorgi, but the majority of his instincts were screaming that he was in danger, the man sitting in front of him was a killer capable of remorseless destruction, and he and Charlie should get as far away as possible as soon as possible. With a quick glance to his right, he found that Charles felt it too; the man was on his feet, ready to run at the first sign of Yorgi's sanity slipping.  
Yorgi hadn't noticed the change in body language. He sat forward and burried his face in his hands. "I killed them. I ripped their throats out. I..." he began shaking again, losing ground in the fight to retain composure. "They're in my dreams now. They tell me they have families, children, tell me they only killed Kirill because were ordered to, and I look, and my hands are covered in blood, and I hear them screaming, and I just can't... I can't tell them I'm sorry..."  
Xander glanced cautiously at Charles, trying to remember anything he'd heard about war vetrans and flashbacks. Nothing. "Yorg... what can I do?"  
"Nothing," he whispered. "Will be okay... Just need a minute..."  
_Commie bastard,_ X thought to himself, angry at Yorgi for being complicated._ There's gotta be something else I can do. You're shaking like a fucking leaf, you can't talk straight for more than a couple sentences, and I doubt you could stand in your state. God, Yorg..._  
Charles moved first, surprizing them both. He went to sit on the couch next to Yorgi, grabbing his hand and examining it. "No blood here."  
Yorgi stared, also, as if seeing something Charles didn't. "Da..."  
He dropped the hand and turned to make eye contact with him. "I think they know you're sorry. I think they're sorry they killed Kirill. I think the entire situation was really crappy, and you didn't belong in it, Kirill didn't belong in it, and they didn't belong in it. I know... I know it'll haunt you, probably for the rest of you life, but try to remember that it's over, and as long as you never forget it, you don't have to remember constantly."  
Xander stared, somewhat glad one of them knew what to do.  
"Charlie... Thank you..." Yorgi closed his eyes for a long moment, and stilled himself, willing his insides to calm down and not lose his last meal.  
Charlie nodded. "Get some sleep, if you can." He stood up and went back to his own bed, waving to Xander to leave him alone.  
Xander hesitated, then returned to the other bed; he stared at the ceiling for almost an hour, pondering.  
Yorgi was capable of killing, but not remorselessly as he first thought. He had brothers-- how many, and where they were, if they were even alive-- he didn't know. He was in some pretty wicked fighting, and it wore away at him. X understood now, why Yorgi had fled to America. He began to wonder how he got in, where he was staying, and what his other job was. There was so much he didn't know.  



	6. Landing

------------  
  
    The jump was to be early in the morning, so as few people as possible would be around to arrest Xander and his crew when they landed. Charlie, Vincent, Sheri, and Yorgi would jump just before and just after Xander, and carry cameras or flashlights on the way down. The lights from the monument were always on, and good enough to guide off of, but the camera shots of the approach would be dark. Jai would be driving the gettaway van; Margo, Dennis, and Julie would be waiting on the ground to help the crew ditch their gear and get out as fast as possible.  
    Xander's friend volunteered to fly the small plane for a small percentage of the profits. The pilot, one John Wessley (or, as Xander liked to call him, John Whiteboy) had a country accent to rival John Wayne and a damn-the-world attitude that seemed out of place for a hick. He certainly didn't seem upset about the near certainty of losing his pilot's license or being arrested by the Federal Aviation Administration.  
    Xander fiddled with paint brush, already soaked in black paint and covered with a layer of saran wrap to keep the wind from drying it out too much to use. "Hey, Vince, why'm I doing this again?"  
    Vince tipped his head to the side, considering. "Uh... because you hate the conventions and restrictions of modern society, and wish to destroy the bounds which hold in all Americans by setting an example of chaos to be followed by millions of little punk kids with paintbrushes."  
    "...Oh yeah."  
    Charlie scowled. "Here he goes..."  
    The corner of Xander's right eye twitched slightly, and he refused to make eye contact with anyone.  
    "You're not gonna chicken out now, are you?" Vincent mocked him.  
    "No!" Xander replied defensively.  
    "You're not a pussy, are you?" he continued, trying to make him angry enough to forget any anxiety.  
    "No!"  
    "Are you a man, or a woman?" Sheri chimed in.  
    In silence, they all turned to look at her.  
    "What?"  
    Vincent shook his head and sighed.  
    John's voice rang out from the cockpit. "Yous best ben reedy, we're nearing duh drawp soight."  
    It took a moment for them to decipher the bumpkin-speak, then they were all on their feet, checking their gear over, checking the flashlights, the cameras, everything. The hatch dropped down, and they waited for the call from the pilot.  
    "Gawoh!" John shouted.  
    Charlie and Sheri went out first, one with a flashlight, one with a camera; Xander went next with his paintbrush, yelling at Vincent and Yorgi about not being pussies. Vincent laughed and glanced at Yorgi.  
    "Ready?"  
    Yorgi blinked. "Da..."  
    "You're really not scared?"  
    He shook his head.  
    "Not even a little?"  
    "No..."  
    Vincent smirked for a minute. "Man, you're somethin' else. C'mon, we'll miss the show." Camera and all, Vincent threw himself out of the plane, Yorgi close behind with a flashlight.  
  
    They dropped toward the ever-growing white and shadowed splotch on the ground, filming angles and the descent.  
    "Cords in three..." Sheri roared above the deafening wind. "Two... One!"  
    Sheri pulled her cord, and her parachute flew up and out. Charlie followed.  
    "Xander, the cord!" Charlie shouted in alarm as the other three rushed past him.  
    "I tried!" Xander howled in reply. He ripped at the emergency cord frantically- no luck. Dammit. The monument was huge, he'd be able to reach out and touch it in about fifteen seconds. "Vince, Yorg, pull it, we're too far!"  
    Vince obeyed, crying out a last goodbye to his long-time friend.     Yorgi continued to fall, pulling his arms in to be more aerodynamic, trying to get closer to where Xander was.  
    Xander decided Yorgi had recieved a likewise defective parachute, and pondered fleetingly again about his brothers and their wellbeing. Just as he was getting to "Thy will be done," he felt a hand slam into his arm, and grip fast to the slick material of his jacket.  
    Yorgi pulled Xander closer to him and got a more secure grip.  
    "You fucking moron, what are you doing?!" Xander hollared at the top of his lungs.  
    One arm tightly around his friend's waist so the inertia of parachute deployment wouldn't rip them apart again, the Russian pulled the cord hard. The parachute shot up and fluttered out, filling with air and slowing them significantly-- but not enough.  
    "You idiot! Let go of me! This parachute is for your weight only! Dammit, you stupid Communist bastard, let go!" Xander pummeled Yorgi's face and head with one fist, struggling.  
    Somehow, Yorgi managed to endure the blows long enough to transfer the catches one by one from his harness to Xander's, without the latter noticing until it was too late. At the last moment, as the ground rushed up at them, Yorgi threw the weight of his torso down, using the resistance of the parachute to misbalance Xander and move himself between him and the ground.  
    Impact was less than silent. Xander's fall was broken by Yorgi. The parachute fell, near useless, to the side. Stunned and shaken, Xander rolled away and removed the parachute harness. Struggling to keep his breath and his head pounding as hard as his heart, he was barely able to speak when Margo and Julie pulled him to his feet and pushed him toward the van. "No... wait, Yorgi. Let me go. Is he alright, he can't be okay, oh God--"  
  



	7. I will be

  
  
[A/N]: To my one loyal fan, who just couldn't wait to find out what happened.  
  
"Dennis and Jai are taking care of him," Margo told him reassuringly, though the shaking in her voice was hard to miss. "They'll take care of him. He'll be alright. Get in the van. We'll get help for both of you."  
"I don't need help, dammit, I'm fine--"  
They pushed him into the van and kept him there, knowing that all their friend would do was get in the way, though he meant well.  
Vincent, Julie, and Charlie landed nearby and ditched their parachutes, running up to help. Charlie and Vincent immediately went to help hold Xander inside the van, while Julie lent a flashlight to Jai and Dennis.  
Jai and Dennis checked Yorgi over swiftly and carefully, trying not to move him as much as possible.  
"Yorgi?" Jai demanded. "Yorgi, can you hear me? Talk to me, buddy."  
"...da..." he wheezed.  
"DAMMIT! What IS IT with you?!" she berated. "Can you feel your legs?"  
"...da."  
"Your neck and back aren't broken, you lucky bastard. Both those legs you can feel are probably broken, you know!"  
"Da, I know..." he exhaled sharply as Jai checked his ribs, then hacked, and finally cried out. "Stop!"  
She shook her head. "Damn. I can't tell you what's broken if I don't check."  
"Please no," he whispered. "You can, I can take it, but please no more."  
The complaint near broke her heart. "Alright. We've got to take you to an ER. I can't help this."  
"No," he begged. "Do whatever you want, not the hospitals..." He shivered for a moment.  
Jai muttered to herself, knowing that Yorgi wasn't hearing her in his unstable state of consciousness. "We'll get you back to the motel and go from there. Get one of those parachutes, cut a piece we can use to lift him! Hurry up!"  
Yorgi finally whimpered and passed out, much to the dismay of Jai.  
Vincent returned shortly after with the section of parachute; they carefully tipped Yorgi to one side and slid it halfway under him, then tipped him to the other side and pulled it through.  
"Clear a way," Jai ordered as Vincent and Julie lifted the two ends of the parachute cloth and moved quickly to the back of the van. Margo, Sherri, and Charlie moved out of the way and allowed Xander to help get the injurred man into the van.  
"Let's get out of here before the cops show up, then we can decide what to do with him," Jai spoke aloud more for Xander's sake than anyone else's.  
"We get him to a hospital, that's what," Vincent replied as they piled in around him.  
Xander shook his head sadly, suddenly not able or willing to make any other motion.  
"No?" Vince interpretted. "If we don't, he could die."  
"If we do," Xander answered slowly, "and they send him back to Russia, he _will_ die."  
Charlie met his eyes, understanding, then turned to Vince. "We can't let them send him back."  
Vince's mind flew for several moments. "Fine, then we'll take him to Matt. Matt was a medic in the Marines for a couple years, he can atleast try to help him."  
Jai jammed gears and sped down the roads like a madwoman, plans already reforming in her head. "Charlie, Xander, since you seem to know something we don't, you two and Vince are coming with me. The rest of you, I'll drop you off at the motel- get our stuff and head home."  
Vincent watched silently as Xander moved a hand gently to Yorgi's arm, where the material of the jumpsuit was torn; beneath it, a deep gash dwelt, oozing blood slowly. Xander's hand moved to the metal pendant he kept on a chain around his neck, then brought his hand back smeared with blood. The pointed end had collided with Yorgi's flesh at a high speed; Yorgi would be scarred from the encounter, if he lived through it.  
Xander tore the pendant off his neck and threw it down, then held his head in his hands.  
  
The van sped along under Vincent's direction after the others had left. Xander sat in silence at Yorgi's side, not moving or speaking. Charlie tried to explain to Jai about Yorgi's nightmare and what they found out from him.  
Hours later, in Chicago, Jai pulled the van up to "Matt's" house, a old box house in what was commonly thought of as the Asian-only side of town. "Guys? Let's make this quick. I have a feeling we're not wanted here."  
Vincent ran ahead and knocked on the door; when he got an answer, he motioned to them to come. Xander and Charlie carried in the parachute-stretcher, and were shocked by the interior of the house they entered.  
The rooms to the immediate left and right of the door were filled with the sick or wounded; an Asian man, Matt, greeted them with a weary gaze. "Vincent, of all days, you pick the one when half the town is shot or stabbed. This is him?"  
Vincent nodded, and waved for them to bring Yorgi into the first room and lay him on one of the empty mats on the floor.  
Yorgi groaned, and mumbled something, flinching slightly.  
Matt knelt beside him and went to work.  
Xander pulled Vincent back to question him. "Vince, who is this guy?"  
"He's cool, don't worry," he whispered back. "He was in the Marines for two years; he got kicked out for trying to patch up Iraqis against orders in the Gulf War. He sorta wandered around after that, typical hippie-trying-to-find-himself thing. He ended up here, helping people without health insurance."  
"This nose job is terrible," Matt commented, pulling a notepad out of his shirt pocket and scribbling wildly. "Cracked and broken ribs, fractured both collar bones, broken left arm, quite a concusion, all these bruises, and that nasty gash on his arm, along with a whole slew of other stuff I couldn't possibly detect. I'll do all I can. What'd you do, run him over with a truck?"  
"Dropped him out of a plane," Vince replied.  
Matt chuckled, then paled slightly. "You're... not kidding... are you..." He stood up and dusted off. "I'll get some disinfectant and bandages, some painkillers, stitches, and a hypodermic. Stay put." He walked off.  
Yorgi stirred again, then inhaled sharply as pain penetrated sleep and disturbed his dreams. His eyes flickered open, and he gazed around blearily.  
Charlie, Vince, and Jai rushed to kneel on both sides of him, fawning worriedly.  
Jai stroked his face gently with the back of her hand. "Yorgi, hon, try to stay awake, we're gonna get you patched up."  
"Vince knows a guy, he's an ex-Marine, maybe you guys can exchange war stories when you're done," Charlie suggested, voice saturated in false hope.  
"Just hold on, buddy..."  
"Is not that bad," Yorgi told them, half pain and half irritation. "Have had worse. Quit acting like I'm dying. Where is X, is X okay?"  
They wordlessly blinked at him, then moved so he could see Xander, still standing in the doorway.  
"Ah, good, you're okay," Yorgi shallowly sighed relief.  
"Yorgi, you did this for me," Xander mumbled, voice as shaken as he was.  
"I told you, is not that-"  
"Dammit, Yorgi, do you know what just happened?" he exploded, silencing the entire room and the room next to it. "You're not okay, do you realize that? Listen to the way you're breathing. Listen! And why are you squinting at me? Can't you see me from there? It's only three yards. Commie bastard, what is it with you? Why didn't you let me die?"  
Yorgi stared up at him in shock.  
"Why didn't you let me die, instead of you? You could've died. You're in crappy shape, you still could die. Damn it. What about your brothers? Who's gonna take care of them while we're taking care of you? What about them?"  
"Xander!" Jai's sharp voice halted his rant in its tracks.  
Yorgi frowned, and looked away, voice cold and controlled. "I will be fine. I'll take care of my brothers. They have nothing to worry about. _You_ have nothing to worry about."  
Xander turned and marched out to pace by the van.  
Jai sighed, and tried to stroke Yorgi's face again, but he pulled away.  
Matt reentered the room before anyone could say anything. "Yikes, the guy has a temper, huh? You're awake! Good. Try to stay awake, with a concusion like that I'm suprized you regained consciousness. Hold still-"  
  
Matt drained some fluid from Yorgi's head, and explained that he was lowering the pressure caused by swelling. He explained everything he did to the group, so as not to startle anyone; he splinted Yorgi's left arm, pulled both collar bones back into place and put a strangely shaped sort of brace on to keep them in place, popped the most severe of the fractured ribs back in place and bandaged them, fixed a dislocated shoulder, and finally disinfected and stitched the gash.  
"That's it," he announced finally. "If it's still hard to breath in a week, I want you to come back and see me. Alright?"  
Yorgi nodded wearily, and slid his right arm back to prop himself up. Before anyone could react, he was standing on his own. He could barely disguise his expression as pain lanced through him from every direction, but he kept his bearing and his balance until Charlie came to his aide. Together, they hobbled out toward the van, Vince thanking Matt and following.  
Jai reached for her pocketbook. "How much do we owe you?"  
Matt laughed. "Nothing! This is a free clinic."  
"Really?" she smiled slowly. "That's great. If you ever need anything, you just call me, I owe you one."  
"Come in sometime and help me change bandages or watch after GSWs. Or even stop by with a box of bandaides and some lemonade. Everything is appreciated."  
Jai regarded Matt for a moment. "You know, Matt, the world needs more people like you."  
He smiled wearily. "Thanks. That means a lot. But there is one thing you could do for me-"  
"Name it."  
"Look after that man. There's a crapload of stuff that could be wrong with him that I can't detect. With all that trauma to his lungs, he's vulnerable to pneumonia, and I can't treat that. Keep him warm, dry, and safe, just long enough for him to heal. Winter is coming, he can't be out in that any more than he needs to be. And if anything happens, like he coughs blood or if he develops a fever, bring him back to me or risk taking him to the ER." Matt gazed out the window, where Charlie was helping Yorgi into the van. "He's bad off, but he'll never admit it. You may have to nail him down, but if it's what you gotta do..."  
Jai nodded. "I'll take good care of him. He's got so many people that would look after him, I don't think it'll be a problem." She turned away from the window and back to Matt. "Matt, have you dealt with illegal immigrants before?"  
"Sure, plenty of them. They come here because they can't go to the hospitals."  
"Where do they usually live?"  
He shrugged. "Depends on what nationality they are."  
"Russian."  
"They're usually scattered all over the place. They can get along nearly anywhere."  
She frowned. "He spoke once about his brothers; he really worries about them. Would there be any way to check up on them? Track them down?"  
He considered the question for a moment. "I can drop their names around here, see if anyone who comes in knows them. Want me to call you if something turns up?"  
"Yeah," she accepted the note pad and pen from his hand and scribbled down her number, and the names of both Yorgi's brothers. "Kolya and Viktor. I don't know anything besides that."  
"Gotcha. Will do. Your friends are waiting, better hurry."  
She handed the note pad back. "Thanks again."  
  
Jai couldn't shake the horrible feeling Matt had started with his talk of unseen injuries. She fought with Yorgi the entire ride back to Xander's apartment, until he agreed to stay with Xander for atleast a day and a night, and accept a place on the couch.  
The team regrouped in Xander's living room, Charlie helping Yorgi to the couch as Xander and Jai hovered worriedly nearby. Vince, Dennis, and the three sisters pulled up chairs from nearby and sat across from the couch.  
Xander winced, listening to Yorgi's ragged breathing. "Why didn't you let me fall?" he demanded, in his first words since his rant at the clinic.  
"Then you'd be dead," he answered. "Now we're both alive."  
"But... you're... Yorg, you're..." he grimaced and leaned on the arm of the couch. "You're not okay."  
"If you were dead, you wouldn't be 'okay.' Now you're alive. Am not okay now, but I will be. I just hurt, that's all. I will heal."  
Xander folded his arms and stared at the ground. "Why didn't the chute open?"  
Yorgi slumped against the back of the couch as his head began throbbing anew. "Don't know."  
Jai, taking the hint, waved them all away. "Come on, guys, he's tired, he's been through a whole shitload today. Let's let him rest."  
"We should have someone watch him," Sherri suggested quietly, "in case something happens."  
"Am fine..." Yorgi insisted sleepily, not resisting when Sherri gently guided him to lie back on the couch.  
She smiled. "Sure you are."  
The others filed out as the Russian dropped off to sleep.  
  



	8. In the way

  
  
  
    Yorgi was startled out of sleep by a pair of hands gripping his neck. His eyes snapped open to meet Sherri, who seemed intent on strangling him. He brought his good arm up to push her away, but she brought her knee up first and jammed it down on his fragile ribs. He choked, pain rushing over him; disorientated by it, he swung his arm randomly, struggling to remove the unbearable weight.  
    Sherri dodged frantically, knocking the corner table over and breaking the lamp that was on it. She squeezed Yorgi's neck harder in a desparate attempt to kill him.  
    From behind, she was lifted entirely into the air, a single arm wrapped around her waist. Her hands were torn away and suddenly she was flying, then falling, then sprawled on the hard, uncarpetted floor.  
    "I _know_ that was not some kinky activity I just saw," a gruff voice boomed from behind her. "That leaves me with one assumption."  
    Yorgi gasped raggedly and held his side.  
    Xander glanced back over his shoulder, then turned back to glare piercingly at Sherri. "Why?"  
    "He's in my way," she replied, getting to her feet.  
    "What?"  
    "Every time I try to--" she stopped suddenly, then narrowed her eyes.  
    Julie's voice prompted her to speak again as Julie emerged from the hall, followed by Jai and Vincent, the only members of the crew that requested to stick around. "Why don't you tell us, Sherri? We're pretty damn curious."  
    Under her older sister's glare, Sherri shrunk back. Gathering courage, she retorted, "Every time I try to kill X, Yorgi gets in the way."  
    A cold silence covered the room.  
    "Why are you trying to kill Xander?" Vince demanded.  
    Jai answered for her. "When Julie and her sisters moved to Chicago, they were bad off. To make sure they were taken care of if he was killed in a stunt, he put them in his will."  
    "Xander has a will?" Vince blinked.  
    "Not really," Julies told him, "It's written in blue magic marker on a paper towel."  
    "But it's still legal," Jai pointed out. "Now that Jules and the girls are set up, there's a change Xander could change it. Am I right? Sherri?"  
    Sherri glared around her coldly.  
    Angrily, Xander started toward her.  
    "You can't hit a woman!" she cried.  
    "No," Julie growled, "But I can." Her fist met Sherri's face like a brick, and the youngest sister hit the ground again, this time rendered unconscious.  
    Remembering the injured man and her promise to Matt, Jai spun on her heels to face Yorgi. "Yorg? You okay?"  
    He tried to express an affirmative, but his lack of breath shortened it to a whimper that expressed the opposite. He coughed, adding to the blood already tricking down the side of his face.  
    "Shit," she mumbled, going to his side and kneeling, wiping blood off his face. "Shit shit shit! Vince, call Matt now, my cell is on the table."  
    "What-"  
    "He's coughing up blood, that's never good. Please, just do it, ask Matt what to do!"  
    Motivated by a contagious fear, Vince snatched up the cell and dialed fast. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon... answer... Matt! Yorgi's coughing up blood, what's wrong? What should we do? Okay... okay, sure, we're coming." He clicked the phone off and tossed it back on the counter. "Get him there."  
    "Van keys," Xander requested.  
    Vince dashed for the guest room to retrieve them.  
    "Can you walk, Yorgi?" he asked.  
    The Russian stood, coughing again and accepting help from Julie. They went together to the elevator, Vince running to follow.  
    "X, stay here," Jai ordered. "Watch over Sherri."  
    "Not a chance," he protested, starting for the door.  
    "You're too upset already. I'll stay here with you. We need to talk." She waved for the others to go; after the elevator disappeared she reassured him, "They'll take good care of him."  
    Xander paced. "She hurt him twice because of me. If I had either died or caught the bitch sooner, he'd be okay. She was going to kill me. He saved my life! And I still can't find his brothers. Dammit! He's so distant sometimes, he'll be staring off into space lookin' like someone shot his dog or something. Something is wrong, I can't fix it, and now all this, this happened... and I can't help him. He saved my life, dammit."  
    "We're all worried," Jai agreed, "but you've gotta quit beating yourself up over this. Sherri rigged the parachute. Sherri tried to kill him, and you. It's not your fault."  
    Xander remained silent.  
    "He'll be fine, you hear me!" she berated.  
    X smired. "Yes, mama."  
    "Attaboy. Now, what should we do with Sherri?"  
  
------------  
  
    "His ribs are broken into his left lung," Matt notified them. "I can sew him up, but I only have anesthetics for stopping pain, knocking him out and keeping him under. Even if I had the stuff to keep him still, it's an inhaled medication, and that would just be adding more crap to his lungs. I'll need you all to hold him down."  
    Vince blinked, shocked to silence by the suggestion.  
    Matt was working with a line of pipe leading from Yorgi's left lung, up through his throat, and into a machine, pumping blood out and air in. "Will you or won't you, before he bleeds out?"  
    Vince nodded, and motioned for Julie to hold his arms down while he held the legs.  
    Yorgi peered up at them, frightened.  
    "It's a'right, Yorgi," Julie told him. "He's going to fix you up."  
    He reached his free arm into his pocket and dug out a scrap of paper, and held it out to Vince.  
    The Italian took it, unfolded it, and read the address. "Your brothers?" he inquired.  
    Yorgi nodded.  
    "If anything happens, I'll take care of them. I swear."  
    Yorgi nodded again, with a weak smile around the plastic piping, then turned to Matt and nodded that he was ready.  
    Matt pushed the contents of a hypodermic into the I.V. already taped into Yorgi's arm. He set the empty one in a tray on the table, then picked up another and repeated the process. He added the third one as his patient's eyes drifted shut and his body relaxed. When that was done, he picked up a scalpel and sliced into the skin directly over the broken ribs.  
    Yorgi flinched and cried out in his artificial slumber.  
    Julie held fast to his arms, and swore mercilessly. "Sherri, you bitch, you mother fucking whore-child, I swear to God if Jai and Xander don't kill you, I will."  
    Vince bowed his head, unable to watch. Occasionally he would hear Julie swear, or Yorgi would flinch and move; sometimes, Matt would give orders to Julie, but Vince was too out of it to understand. All he could concentrate on was Yorgi's shoes. Brown, worn shoes. Work boots. One frayed shoestring. A pebble stuck in the treads.  
    "Vince, you can let go of his feet now," he heard vaguely from the direction of Matt. He thought it was Matt. It could have been God for all he cared.  
    "No," Vince whispered. "No one is supposed to die..." He gripped the shoes tightly. "This isn't the kind of job where people die."  
    "You're right," Julie told him, voice horse from cursing loud enough to disturb the entire clinic; Vince hadn't heard the cussing. "This isn't the kind of job, but this is the kind of life where people die. Always has been."  
    "Do you think he'll find it when he dies?" Vince wondered vaguely.  
    Julie frowned. "Find what?"  
    "His freedom. He kept talking about it. It's what he was always looking for."  
    Matt rolled his eyes as he washed up in the kitchen sink. "Would you two quit being so melodramatic?"  
    Vince turned on him. "The fuck--? He's going to die, you asshole, what the fuck is wrong with you, what do you mean, melodramatic?"  
    "Wow, you're welcome," he replied sarcastically. "He's not going to die. I want to keep him here for a couple days, to make sure he doesn't get any weird infection and his lung doesn't rip open again. You two can go on home and tell Jai and Xander he'll be fine."  
    Julie stood frozen for a moment, then scooped Matt up into a huge bear-hug. "AAaaahhh, I love this man! Thank you! You're the greatest! If ya ever need anything, and I mean anything, you let me know, I owe you more than I could pay back in my life, you fantastic, wonderful, talented man!"  
    Matt clawwed at her arm. "Aaaiiirrr..."  
    She released him with a grin as big as the hug.  
    He backed away slowly. "Uh... yeah... tell you what... you go home now, and never hug me again, and we'll call it even..."  
    She made a face. "FINE. But Vince is staying here with Yorgi. I'll run home and tell the others, Vince, stay put." Julie skipped off down the hall toward the door.  
    Vince stood silent for a moment; as the van sped off, he looked up with a huge grin at Matt, and trapped him in another monster-sized hug.  
    "Aaaahh, no, lemme go, I'm not like that, aaaaaahhh!" Matt struggled.  
    He released him with a grin twice as big as the hug, and went back to Yorgi's side, intent on keeping watch until his friend awoke.  
  
  
------------  
[A/N] Sorry it took so long. Next chapter, we get to see the cruel and unusual punishment planned for Sherri. (rated PG-13, don't worry.)  
  
  



	9. Whose Politics?

  
  
    Yorgi spent two days at Matt's clinic before he agreed to return to the apartment for the rest of the week. That was the plan, anyway. The same day he returned, an irrate pair of Russians appeared in front of Xander's apartment building.  
    Vince stared up at them with slight apprehension, having just returned with a bag of Chinese take-out. "Uh.. Hi there. What can I do for you fellas?"  
    The taller one glared back at him. "Where is Yorgi?"  
    The Italian attempted to rally his failing courage. "Who's asking?"  
    "His brothers," the shorter one grunted.  
    Vince relaxed a bit. "Ohh, we were wondering when you'd show up. C'mon up. We're looking after him."  
    "Why are you 'looking after him?' Yorgi never needs looking after. What has happened?"  
    He slipped past them and led them to the elevator. "He's had a rough couple of days. I think I better let him explain."  
    They rode the few floors up to the loft and openned the gate.  
    "Wassup?" Vince announced their entrance. "Yorgi has visitors!"  
    Yorgi, who fought Jai and Xander all the way to the couch and was now resting, stood and met his brothers with a wide smile. "Viktor! Kolya!"  
    Kolya ran up to give his brother a very manly Russian hug, but was suprized when X stepped forward, pulled Yorgi back, and stepped between them.  
    "Whoa, careful, no hugging, he's injurred."  
    Kolya stopped in his tracks, regarding Xander coldly. "What has happened?"  
    Xander turned back to Yorgi, as if asking it it were okay to explain. With a nod, he did. "He was caught in the middle of a fight he shouldn't have been in, which is why his nose is broken. Then he saved my life during a skydiving accident, which fucked him up in general. Then one of my ex-assistants tried to kill him, which is why his ribs are broken."  
    "Wow, Yorgi," Viktor exclaimed in English for the benefit of those in the room. "No wonder you look like shit!"  
    Yorgi gave a laugh that left him clutching his side. "Ouch, no laughing, laughing is bad... hah..."  
    "Thank you for looking after him," Kolya told Xander. "You are a good man."  
    Xander grinned crookedly. "Hey, how come your English is better than his?"  
    "At my job, they have televisions over the bar, I learned much English from them. Sometimes they play your tapes. You are amazing!"  
    He chuckled.  
    "Welcome to the Xander Zone!" Kolya imitated.  
    "That's funny!" Xander laughed boomingly.  
    Yorgi took the chance to slip around them and went to the coat board, meaning to find his coat and make a quick exit to avoid fuss. His coat was nowhere to be found, though.  
    "It's not there," Vince told him quietly, knowing his friend's intention. "Jai threw it out, said she got that green thing for you. The one with the fleece collar. Yeah, that one."  
    He took it off the peg and ran his thumbs over the thick green material and beige collar. "Cannot accept this..."  
    "Guess I can't accept you saving my life," X called over, then shrugged. "Oops. Take it back."  
    Yorgi smiled slowly, and donned the coat.  
    "Take care of him," X told Kolya and Viktor. "Make sure he's careful, he can only be patched up so many times."  
    Kolya nodded. "Thank you again. We do not know what we would do without our brother."  
    Yorgi allowed them to lead him out, vaguely pleased by the lack of insistance that he stay. Oddly enough, he felt like he was leaving home.  
    The walk to their apartment was long. Yorgi hurried, harried by the sound of his youngest brother's coughing and the dull pain of his own lungs. He didn't know how fast the cold weather was blowing in, but he knew if Kolya's cough turned into pneumonia, they were in trouble.  
    He thought to himself, through, as they arrived home, that things would be okay.  
  
  
----------------------  
  
    Twice Yorgi's unit was attacked in that operation. Twice they caught a member of his team. The first time, they retrieved the member and regrouped, travelling back to safety until the member recovered. The second time, it was Kirill. The Chechnyans weren't trying to be cruel. They were just trying to survive. It was the only thought that had kept Yorgi alive, in the basement of the building his captors were hiding in.  
    The thought didn't follow into his nightmares afterwards. None of the ideals, none of the beliefs and justifications ever did. Only the experience of being tied, beaten, and used against his own government in a game of useless, unending political bargains.  
    _Assassinate the unit commander, then come back, that's all they want,_ Yorgi told his brothers and his comrades. They stood together. His team was a family. He was their leader, their father, their commander. _Protect Kirill at all costs. Kirill will kill the enemy, then we get to go home._  
    It wasn't until he was caught that he found out what being a POW to an unregulated military was all about. And it wasn't until he found this out that he began to realize how stupid it all was. The nightmares followed him, even to the United States, but the nightmares were always about Kirill's capture, about not being able to save him.  
    Always, until he returned with his brothers to the apartment that evening. Something set off the memories he kept burried. It could have been anything; the mention of Kirill to his friends, the sound of the wind outside the windows, the cold drafts of the cheap apartment, or the pain in his lungs. He never realized he was dreaming.  
  
  
    _Yorgevni. Is that your name?_  
    Pain. _My name is Pipi Longstocking, for all you care, you rebel fuck._  
    Pain. _You're brave. That will go away with time._  
    It did. Yorgi never thought himself brave again. He never talked-- the broken jaw had been an accident by the men sent to 'watch after him,' one Yorgi appreciated more than anyone would ever know. He wanted to talk, especially after three weeks without food, a week with only a few hours sleep, and the icy feeling spreading through the torn remains of his uniform into every part of him. He wanted to talk, but he couldn't, and he was glad. By the time his team found him... ...? He couldn't remember...  
    _Yes I can_  
  
    _Yorgi?_ Viktor. Please let Kolya be elsewhere. He doesn't need to see this.  
    _Brother..._ Damn. No luck.  
    _Can you move?_ Does it look like I can move?  
    _Get him by the shoulders, careful with his neck. Hand him up through the window.  
    Kolya stared at him in shock.  
    Don't depend on this. You don't need me, little brother. You don't need me. Leave me here, I hear them coming.  
    
__What's wrong with him, Viktor? Why is he struggling away from us?_  
    Who are you?  
    _Hold him, Kolya, he'll hurt himself worse!_  
    Who are you, you're not my brothers. Get away from me. Stay away from me. Quit calling him that. You're not my brothers...  
    Thankfully, darkness overtook him and he let it. He awoke in a hospital, safe in Moscow, with his entire six-man unit draped over chairs and across a couch in his room. They airlifted him from the military base nearest to Chechnya to the hospital, the others followed by train.  
    They let him go back almost immediately. And almost immediately, the enemy found them and took Kirill. Maimed him. Killed him. It was more than he could bare. He left; left everything. Everything but his brothers. They left the army, left the mother country, left the continent.  
    Still, the nightmares followed him.  
  
    _Why did my brothers have to see me like that... to hell with Chechnya, with Russia, with being pawns in a game of politics. Whose politics? Not mine.  
  
    ----------  
    Viktor stood next to Kolya and set a heavy hand on his brother's shoulder. The younger brother shuddered, and turned his gaze up to Viktor's momentarily.  
    The middle brother shook his head, dark eyes further shadowed.  
    Kolya turned back to gaze at the ground.  
    Viktor stepped forward and knelt-  
    "Nyet," Kolya insisted. "It will mean prison."  
    "Better than death."  
    "Prison is death."  
    "Fine. What do you suggest?"  
    Kolya pondered for a moment, then nodded to himself slowly. "No more choices."  
  
  
  

_


	10. Live and Die

  
  
[A/N]: Perhaps this is the Last Dance, as the guests of the party waltz towards that fated room of the red death at the end of the hall. Step two three, step two three, and the clock striking closer to twelve. Any Poe fans out there?  
  
--------------  
  
     Four months passed. Xander never heard from Yorgi or his brothers-- which was not unusual, since Yorgi didn't hang out at his place between jobs. When the next stunt came around, he called the others together for planning. They all sat around the front room with soda and beer, tossing around ideas. All except the Russian.  
    Dennis snatched a beer and scurried out of the way as Vince, Julie, and Xander mobbed the fridge. "Hey, where's Yorgi?"  
    "I dunno, I haven't seen him," Xander replied, pushing his way out of the kitchen.  
    "Did he call?" Jai wondered, popping open a Sprite and flopping down on the couch.  
    X joined her a moment later. "Damnedest thing, but he didn't. You know him, real chatty..."  
    Jai made a face. "You know what I mean. Dennis, Vince, he call either of you?"  
    Bewildered shaking of heads.  
    "Jules?"  
    "Haven't seen him since the thing with Sherri," she admitted. "Heh, probly scared him off. We should probably tell him she's gone."  
    Jai frowned, flicking her fake plastic fingernails on the can tab. "Vince, didn't you say he gave you that address?"  
    Vince was already digging in his wallet. "Ahhhhhyeah, here it is."  
    "Wanna run down there and see what's up? Tell him what we did with Sherri if he's nervous about coming back."  
    "Sure, if I can take the bike," he grinned innocently at Xander.  
    X turned to Jai also. "I dunno. Mom, can I loan my bike out to a friend of mine?"  
    "Do you trust him?" Jai drawled, following the joke.  
    He shot Vince a sidelong look. "Maybe not. Can I see your license?"  
    Vince made a face and snatched the key off the crates currently serving as a coffee table.  
    "So tell me more about this politician with the 'vette," Dennis prompted.  
  
---------------  
  
    An hour later, they heard the lift stop.  
    "Vince," Jai started, calling over her shoulder before she could see him. "Was anyone th- oh..."  
    Viktor lifted the gates and regarded them anxiously. The lift didn't contain Vincent, but it did contain Kolya; the taller Russian was holding something that looked like a rolled up rug. Both stared warily for a moment.  
    "What happened to you two?" Julie exclaimed, standing from her chair.  
    Both were bruised and dirty, in need of a change of clothes, and gaunt to the point they were barely recognizable. They walked forward quietly.  
     "We need your help," Viktor requested with a tone of solemn shame. "We did not know where else to come."  
    Kolya passed him, carefully setting the rolled carpet-- no, the roll of blankets-- on the couch.  
    "What's-- oh my God..." Julie was the only one capable of speech, limited though it was.  
    They thought it was a corpse, except for the violent shivering and the short, ragged breaths. The form before them was pale, all bones... barely recognizable...  
    "Yorgi...?" Kolya prompted, gently nudging his shoulder. *"We're here."*  
    Yorgi stirred, sunken eyes openning without really seeing. "Kolya? *Where?* Ugh... *Where is Kirill? Is the mission over?"*  
    "He's hallucinating," Kolya reported in English with a grimace.  
    "Please help him," Viktor begged, "He's dying."  
    Jai handed her cellphone to Dennis. "Speed dial 2. And go get a glass of water from the kitchen, bring it here. Xander, get some better blankets. Julie, go warm up the van-- get the heater going."  
    Without objection, they split up and obeyed.  
    "Kolya, c'mere," she ordered. "Lift him to sit."  
    Kolya did as he was told. Dennis handed the glass of water to Jai, other hand holding the cellphone to his ear. She gently held Yorgi's jaw, openning his mouth, and tipped the glass. To her relief, he drank easily.  
    *"Thank you,"* he mumbled as Kolya set him back on the couch.  
    He'll be ready," Dennis reported, hanging up and accepting the empty glass in exchange.  
    Xander pitched blankets from the hall to Viktor, as Kolya and Jai removed the old, ratty ones.  
    "Shit..." Jai squeaked, pausing in horror as the last of the blankets came away. "He's so thin..."  
    Kolya clenched his jaw, concentrating only on wrapping his older brother in the thicker blankets. The green winter coat stayed on, dwarfing its owner.  
    Yorgi's eyes stared blankly at nothing in particular. He lacked the energy to do anything else.  
    "Yorgi, can you see?" Jai asked experimentally.  
    He squinted, as if trying hard to understand what she said, rather than trying to see. *"What...* oh... I cannot see."  
    "Do you recognize my voice?" she hoped to herself.  
    "...n... da. Jai?"  
    "Good! You're in Xander's apartment," she explained to him, holding his hand carefully. "We're going to get you help, okay? Like before."  
    Yorgi sighed quietly.  
    Kolya, blanket job done, lifted him and followed Jai, Xander, Dennis, and Viktor to the lift.  
    "I'll stay here and wait for Vince, then meet you at Matt's, aright?" Julie told them.  
    X nodded silently, and the lift went down.  
  
    The car ride was quiet. No one dared make a sound, except for Jai, who was holding Yorgi's hand and speaking to him, more reassuring to herself than to him.  
    "It'll be alright, you'll see. Why didn't you tell us you were in trouble? We woulda taken care of you, put you and your brothers in Xander's guest room until things levelled out, you know?"  
    Yorgi grimaced at the idea of taking charity.  
    "Aright, aright, better than this, though, right?" she amended. "What happened?"  
    He openned his mouth to speak, but couldn't seem to get the air to say anything. He turned his head toward Kolya plaintively. Getting the point, the youngest brother answered for him. "The club that Viktor and I work at was closed, and we are left with nothing. Money runs out, we get kicked out of apartment. We find a place on north end, empty building, other homeless live there. Very cold. I get sick, Yorgi is worried... He gave me his blankets, his food, told me to stay out of the wind, stay home while he and Viktor find work. But there is no work around Christmas time that they allow us to do without papers from imigration. So many stupid laws. Yorgi gets into a fight, and comes home injurred again. We left him alone about it, he told us it was okay. Then he gets sick, but refuses to let us take care of him. Now he can't refuse anymore. Now we have to." Kolya's voice dropped to a whisper. "Is too late?"  
    Jai looked down at Yorgi, not wanting to make eye contact with Kolya and have to answer the question truthfully. "I don't know."  
    The van slowed soon after, and the doors were flung open. Matt and a volunteer stood nearby with a stretcher, wrapped up in coats and scarves. Behind them, some neighborhood kids were shovelling snow off the sidewalks and making it into a snowfort. They stopped to watch as a bundle of blankets was loaded onto a stretcher and carried into the clinic / house.  
  
  
----------  
  
    "I don't even want to know," Matt told them, pulling the blankets away and pulling Yorgi's left arm out of the green coat and cleaning the inside of his elbow with an alcohol-soaked cotton ball. "Don't bother trying to explain. How long has he been hallucinating?"  
    "Since this morning," Viktor answered. Kolya had retreated into complete silence before they arrived.  
    "How long has he had a fever?" Matt taped an IV needle in Yorgi's arm.  
    Viktor was silent for a moment, then admitted quietly, "We don't know. Did not tell us he was sick. We only found out when he couldn't hide it anymore, that was a few days ago."  
    Matt nodded, checking over his previous work on Yorgi's side-- _yep, infected. Figures. Stubborn Russian._ "When did he stop eating?"  
    "He started refusing food almost two months ago... he gave up his so we could eat. He stopped being able to eat without... er... five days ago... need word..."  
    "Vomitting?" he suggested.  
    "Da. That. Five days."  
    Matt was silent, moving to a nearby cabinet and removing several small plastic pounches containing some sort of liquid. He pushed the business end of a hypodermic into one, filled the hypodermic with the liquid, then injected it into Yorgi's IV. He repeated the process, one at a time, with three plastic pouches.  
    "Will he live...?" Kolya whispered, seeming loud in the silence.  
    Matt didn't meet his eyes.  
    "Will he live?" he demanded, louder.  
    "Kolya... Don't worry..." a quiet voice replied. He almost missed his brother speaking, even in the silence. "I won't leave you."  
    Kolya stared for a moment, then backed up until he found a wall to lean on. He seemed to shrink from seven feet to two, his shoulders shaking with smothered sobs. Jai went over to comfort him, but he pushed her away. "This! This is because of us. He did this for us!"  
    "No no, shhh," she said quietly.  
    "He did! He did, and he is going to die!" he shouted.  
    "Stop shouting," Yorgi ordered, voice suddenly harsh. "Everyone, want to speak to Kolya. Alone. Please leave?"  
    Matt shook his head obstinately, then remembered Yorgi couldn't see. "No way. I've got work to do here if you even have a chance."  
    "Fine, stay then. Everyone else, leave, and close door on way out."  
    Startled by his change in tone, the others filed out quietly.  
    When he heard the door click, Yorgi sighed and shuddered, the effort of acting as he did wearing on him. "*Little brother, come here."  
    Kolya walked over and took his hand. "Da?"  
    "*I will make sure you and Viktor are taken care of. Always. Understand?*"  
    "Yorgi, *why did you do this? Why did you do this for us?*"  
    "*Anarchy. I did this for me. I look after both of you because all I have left is my family."  
    "*Anarchy,*" Kolya repeated. "*Live for-*"  
    "*No. Live _and die_ for you and yours. You are _my_ brother. I die for you.*"  
    "*Don't go,*" Kolya begged. "*Please. I want to trade places with you.*"  
    Yorgi chuckled. "*You can't. You will be okay, though, I think. I will make sure of it.*"  
    "*How, when you're dead?!*" Kolya demanded.  
    He was silent.  
    Matt felt decidedly awkward, standing in the middle of a conversation in a language he couldn't hope to comprehend. _Dammit, Jim, I'm a doctor, not a linguist!_ He set the vial of tranquilizer on the table for later. If the Russian didn't cool it, he'd have to make him chill somehow. All he was doing now was upsetting himself and his little brother.  
    "*Go wait outside with the others,*" Yorgi told Kolya. "*Send Viktor and Xander in here.*"  
    Kolya squeezed his hand, then walked out with the air of a child leaving his mother for the first day of kindergarten.  
    The door clicked.  
    Matt set a hand on Yorgi's shoulder. "Do you want the tranquilizers now, or later?"  
    "Later," he answered. "Have to talk to my brothers first. And... Would like to face death awake..."  
    "...Alright," he allowed, setting the vial back in the cabinet.  
    The door openned again; Viktor and Xander walked in, looking very much like scared children.  
    "*Come over here,*" Yorgi told them.  
    Xander looked blankly over at Viktor, who nodded his head toward his brother and led the American forward.  
    "Viktor," Yorgi began, then went off in a speil of Russian.  
    Xander never knew what it was he said, but by the time the short and very quiet discussion was over, the formerly tough, manly Russian sunk to his knees beside the table and was crying into his brother's sleeve.  
    "Xander."  
    Xander looked up, making eye contact out of respect. "Yeah?"  
    "You have been like a brother to me, you and the crew. Tell Vince am sorry. Tell Jai not to cry."  
    "Tell them yourself," Xander ordered gruffly, not wanting him to say what he thought he would.  
    Yorgi flinched at the tone, and shook his head slightly. "Look after my brothers, Xander, please--"  
    "NO!" he shouted. "No, I won't! You will. Dammit, you commie bastard--"  
    Viktor decked him. Xander went down like a brick.  
    "Viktor?" Yorgi asked, hearing the thud. "Viktor, *what happened?*" At his lack of answer, he turned towards the direction he thought Matt was in. "Matt, what happened, what did he do?"  
    "Punched him," Matt replied, seeming pleased. "Can't say I blame him."  
    Yorgi chuckled. "Viktor, *don't pick on him just because he's smaller than you.*"  
    Viktor hauled Xander off the ground with one hand, then turned back to his brother, wiping the last of his tears from his eyes. "Yorgev... Yorgi... *If you live, I will never speak to you again.*"  
    "*If I _die,_ you will never speak to me again.*" He closed his eyes and shivered, then coughed again and turned to Matt. "If do not mind, I think I have changed my mind about that tranquilizer..."  
    "What?" Xander demanded, holding his jaw with one hand. "What tranquilizer, what for?"  
    Matt retrieved the vial from the cabinet again. "It's to keep his heart rate down, possibly ease off the fever. And to put him to sleep."  
    "BAD terminology," he replied, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other. "Really bad fucking terminology."  
    "Sorry. Not in the sense of euthanizing an animal," he ammended, adding it to the IV. "More in the sense of helping him sleep."  
    Viktor watched his brother slowly relax. "Sleep til when?"  
    Matt turned to gaze at them, then shook his head.  
    Viktor held his brother's hand sentimentally, and sank back to his knees to sit and wait.  
    Xander wondered what he was waiting for.  
  
    Outside in the hall, Vince and Sherri rushed into the clinic.  
    "Where?" Vince asked Dennis, Jai, and Kolya. His eyes drifted over them; Dennis was perfectly still, not moving or speaking, barely daring to breath. Jai was sitting on a chair, elbows on her knees and her head on her hands. Kolya, still crying like a child, sat next to her, arms crossed in front of him as if holding himself together. "Where, dammit?!"  
    The door to the room in front of them openned. Xander emerged, and looked to him wordlessly.  
    Vince took a step backward, then turned and walked back outside.  
    Sherri bowed her head, made the sign of the cross, and turned to follow.  
  
  
  
---------------------------------  
    So do we like the villian now? What will happen, do you think? I've got a few ideas in mind, but I'm interested in your opinions. Especially Platinumblond612 and Amancirith Carangarien. You guys kick major assage, just so you know. \|^_^|/ Thanks for being loyal readers!  
  



	11. Anarchy 99

[A/N]: Anarchy isn't about breaking rules... After seeing the clipped scene on the DVD, I wanted to walk right into the movie and slug Xander. What a moron... Don't worry, this ramble becomes important later.  
  
------  
  
    Xander sat on the porch steps, glaring at the freshly-shovelled pavement. Kolya sat on the opposite side of the steps. Viktor sat on the bench next to the door, Sherri at his right and a dwarfed Dennis to his left. Vince balanced on the porch rail like a cat, not wanting to concentrate on anything else.  
    "It's the fucking government's fault. Again." Xander observed, his voice a dangerous growl.  
    "Hm?" Vince wondered, snapping out of his reverie.  
    "It's the god-damn government's fault," he repeated. "Government is the root of all evil."  
    "How d'you figure?" Dennis asked, figuring his friend was just ranting in anger.  
    Xander picked at the wood of the step pensively. "The government got ya'll's entire family into this fucking mess, right Kolya?"  
    Kolya nodded slowly. "Da, I guess so... Is why we are in America."  
    "And the American government is so wrapped up in its damn bureacracy it won't allow decent people to get help in crappy situations just because they're illegal. So fucking what?! He's still human! DAMMIT." Xander punched the wooden step with everything he had, leaving a bleeding scrape across his knuckles. Jai winced for him, but didn't say anything. The others didn't seem to notice. "So fucking what..."  
    "What do you propose we do, then?" Dennis asked, trying to lead Xander from his angry mindset into something a little less... well, dangerous, for one thing.  
    "Anarchy," he replied after a moment. "Without government, people could live how they're supposed to, on their own, without someone else in their business all the time."  
    Here, Viktor broked in. "To live and die for you and yours. That's what Yorgi said to us."  
    Xander nodded darkly. "Exactly. He stood and began pacing like a caged lion. "We'll do whatever it takes to get rid of the people that killed your brother, your friends, _my_ friend. Whatever it takes."  
    "Xander," Jai interrupted him. "This is crazy, the government could stomp on us like bugs if it wanted."  
    "'s not true and you know it," he retorted. "We get away with marketting those tapes. We've gotten away with how many stunts? Fourteen. The government can't stop us unless the government knows who we are and what we're doing. There's gotta be a way to get rid of them in one move... Like a bomb or somethin'... Help me out here..."  
    Kolya mulled over it for awhile. "We can not fight them, let's have them fight each other. Let's make them have a war with another government, or lots of other governments."  
    "They'll destroy each other!" X agreed. "That's great, Kol, I didn't think of that. So how do we start a war?"  
    Jai got up and walked into the house, deciding it better to stay out of it. Dennis followed close after.  
    They argued back and forth about the best ways to start a war for almost an hour, then X turned to the Italian on the porch rail. "Vince, whadda ya think? Terrorism. With no claim."  
    Vince turned to look at him with a disturbing expression, then shook his head. "I don't even care. Everything is so fucked up right now, don't... Don't ask me for my opinion on anything right now."  
    "Alright," Xander nodded. "Fair enough. But are you with us?"  
    He stared for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Anarchy."  
    "Anarchy!" Kolya and Viktor chorused.  
    "What year was it that you left the Red Army?" Xander asked the Russians.  
    "Nineteen Nintey-Nine," Viktor answered.  
    "Then until there's no more government shit, live and die for you and yours," he declared. "Anarchy '99!"  
  
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    Matt finally emerged from the converted dining room that served as his ICU and flopped down on the chair across from the door, dragging his elbow across his forehead. "Phew. This is the kind of excitement I don't need twice..."  
    Jai blinked at him inquisitively. "Huh?"  
    "Well," he yawned widely, "his pulse started doing something wacky, and before I could figure out why, it just went back to normal. I thought it was the pump for awhile, sometimes people who've been exposed to certain chemical weapons in wartime have reactions to the pump I used for getting the crap out of his lungs, but then I though, it woulda happened before, and--"  
    She got up in the middle of his sentence and went into the dining room.  
    Matt blinked at the closed door. "Oh... kay..."  
  
    Jai was shocked. She wasn't sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the room was so quiet. Yorgi was still alive, still hanging on to the last like the little Russian soldier that he was; but he was still as death.  
    She walked slowly over and ran a finger over his wrist, testing his pulse, then sat down on the chair Matt had pulled in earlier. Carefully, she set her head on the new bandages wrapped around his chest, and listened hard. The sickly crunching sound was almost gone. He was breathing steadily and deeply, as if truly asleep.  
    A hand brushed against her hair. She started, and sat up quickly, then froze as her brown eyes locked with his hazel. He was awake.  
    For some reason, she didn't have any compulsion to move. She simply sat, staring him right in the eye, and he lie there, staring right back. Neither of them blinked for what seemed like forever, but she didn't feel she needed to. She did feel, however, that if she looked away she'd be committing heresy of some sort.  
  
----------  
  
    "Where's Jai at?" Julie asked, gathering people up to go home. She had ventured back inside shortly after the sun set with Viktor, Kolya, and Vince, figuring Jai would be talking to Matt.  
    Matt shook his head and pointed at the door. "She went in there, and hasn't come out yet. I thought maybe she wanted to be alone to talk at him or something."  
    Julie wrinkled her eyebrows. _Jai's too much of a skeptic to think he could possibly hear her._ She pushed the door open quietly and peered in. She could tell Viktor and Kolya were right behind her, peering over her head.  
    Jai was still sitting, staring at Yorgi. Yorgi was still lying there, staring at Jai. There was complete silence.  
    "What are they doing?" Julie wondered aloud, hoping the brothers would have some explanation.  
    "Do not know," Viktor told her. "But when we brought him back, after he was caught, he did the same thing. Our sister flew to Moscow to see him before he died, and he just woke up-- Pah! They sat there and stared at each other for almost a day, not moving, not blinking, not nothing. Was like they were talking, but not in words."  
    Julie stepped into the room, reverancing the silence. The brothers and Vincent followed.  
    Jai didn't turn and acknowledge them. In fact, she didn't even move.  
    "I thought he couldn't see," Vince whispered.  
    "He can't," Viktor replied.  
  
-----------  
  
    Jai shivered. Wherever this dream was taking her, it was very, very cold. She openned her eyes, and looked around.  
    The small room around her could barely be identified as an apartment. It was smelly, the windows were broken, there were floorboards missing, and pipes in the walls were exposed-- something in the back of her mind nagged at her. Wednesday... what was Wednesday? She had to leave Wednesday, find another place to stay for her and her brothers--  
    Since when did she have brothers?  
    _The hell--_ Above all, she was cold. She'd never been cold in a dream before.  
    Julie's next observation was that she was lying on what vaguely resembled a pile of blankets. Most of them were over her, the rest formed something of a pallet. She attempted to sit up, but a flurry of signals attacked her brain. _Cold, fear, pain._ She cried out and stayed where she was. Her voice was strange... Not her own...  
    _What..._ she struggled to remember what happened to her. _Oh my God, it hurts... I must've been stabbed or shot, or something, something's wrong with my stomach and my chest. Hard to breath, and I don't even want to know the kind of salsa dance my heart thinks it's doing. So tired... is that bloodloss or illness..._  
    She fought away the blankets and clutched her stomach-- or, where she thought her stomach would be. Her hand sank almost two inches below where it should have been.  
    _oh... I'm him..._ her mind caught up a little late. _Alright, wherever this mental breakdown takes me, I guess I'm along for the ride. Where to, Yorgi?_  
    _on the counter, there is paper bag with fruit in it, vendor on street had leftovers he could not sell._  
    Julie saw the bag in her head, and the fruit-- rotten in some places, some bruises, but mostly still good. The thought made her stomach straddle her spine and gnaw on itself. _Let's get there, then._  
    _So tired..._  
    She forced the blankets away from her feet... his feet... and sat up. _Aaah!_  
    _It hurts..._  
    Pain caused her to physically double over. Her heart began skipping beats and fluttering as it desprately tried to accomodate the motions she was making with the pitifully little oxygen she was getting from her lungs... his lungs... whatever... She shivered as the air seemed to eat to the center of her bones. Not that it was far to go.  
    _Just lie back down... will go away in a little while... need to sleep...  
    No, don't sleep, get up, get up and get those apples, you need to eat, come on, you can do it,
_ she told him.  
    _They will be back soon, will see me like this. Need to rest, so can be okay for them._  
    _But you're not okay,_ she insisted. _Sleep isn't going to fix this. They're going to find you either way. Come on, get up._  
    Forcing his way to his feet, she mentally forced every motion. _Step. Step. Bring your leg forward and then lean your weight on it. Come on. That's it, now do it again. No don't fall! Ahh!_  
    Pain attacked them again, but he kept his feet, heart skipping again.  
    _Come on, keep going, a few more feet. There, now you can lean on the wall as you go. Don't stop yet. A little further._  
    He leaned against the wall and stopped to catch his breath, closing his eyes.  
    _No stopping. You think you can, you think you can, you think you can--_  
    _Am not little cartoon train. Leave me alone. Just need to catch breath..._ His eyes snapped open, and he brought an arm up to steady himself as he walked a little farther. Step.... step.... step... There...  
    Jai mentally forced his arm up to the bag, but the way he was shaking he could do little more than knock it over. An orange rolled off the counter and onto the floor, followed by a grapefruit and two pears. An apple, however, rolled neatly into his hand._ Thanks a lot, luck. That _almost_ makes up for all the other crap. Now take a bite, you know you want it._  
    Instead, the world spun for a moment and reoriented on the ceiling. He had fallen... The view turned to the left, where his hand still clenched around the apple.  
    She tried to mentally force him to move his arm, but failed. _Yorg, come on, it's right there._  
    _I know..._  
    _Don't get all righteous and self-sacrificing, dammit, you need this._  
    _Am not trying..._  
    The view began to blur. She felt tears roll down his cheeks, and knew he was frustrated by being so close to what he needed but an impossible armslength away. _No... so close..._  
    _They will find me this way... but I can't do any more..._  
    The view went dark, and she knew he was unconscious._ They'll find you, Yorgi, they'll find you and take care of you, and bring you to us._ For awhile, she breathed for him and attempted to steady his heart.  
  
--------  
  
    Jai awoke, realizing that she was still sitting in the chair next to Yorgi and staring directly at him. Her eyes had been open the entire time. So had his. She didn't move for a moment, then watched as he turned to stare sightlessly at the ceiling again. She turned to gaze helplessly at Julie, Kolya, Viktor, and Vince, who stood along the wall silently.  
    "What were your dreams?" Kolya asked quietly.  
    "I was there with him," she replied, somehow unsurprized that he knew what had happened. "When he collapsed in the kitchen."  
    Viktor nodded gravely. "Did he say was going to die?"  
    She shook her head in the negative. "No, he didn't. He wanted to live. He was so afraid you would find him like that." After a moment's pause, she pulled her chair closer to the table and wrapped both her arms around his arm, then rested her head against her chest. Frowning momentarily, she noticed something odd. His pulse was steadier. It matched hers uncannily. Slow, and thankfully steady. _Don't die._  
    As if in answer, she felt his arm move in her grasp, and his hand resting on the back of her head.  
  
  
  



End file.
